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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30109749">resurfacing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyndakip/pseuds/cyndakip'>cyndakip</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the price of perfection [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Blaseball (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canada Moist Talkers (Blaseball Team), Core Mechanics (Blaseball Team), Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, mentions of Bright Zimmerman exclusively so I can dunk on him, more minor appearances from other talkers and also a few mechs, season 13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:15:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,326</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30109749</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyndakip/pseuds/cyndakip</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>PolkaDot Patterson comes home.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>PolkaDot Patterson &amp; The Canada Moist Talkers, PolkaDot Patterson &amp; The Core Mechanics, Workman Gloom &amp; PolkaDot Patterson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the price of perfection [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969006</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Canada Moist Talkers Fanfiction</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>resurfacing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well, getting Dot back was definitely not part of the plan, and I didn't vote for it (plunder is very risky in general and I'm not a fan of it), but I am of course absolutely delighted that they’re home again! I'm sorry to the Mechs, but I'm also very grateful that you appreciated Dot and took good care of them (and are now doing the same with Shirai), and gave me another favourite team to keep up with &lt;3</p><p>I'm very much not used to this whole “write things quickly and fling them out into the world within a few days” thing I've been doing since blaseball came back, but here we are again! Hopefully this doesn't feel too rushed.</p><p>I feel like I don't give enough shoutouts to everyone in orb-corner -- y’all are wonderful and talented and creative and none of these fics would exist without you, so thank you. And once again I need to shoutout mossy_kit’s <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29911713?view_full_work=true">Homecoming</a>, because the second chapter made me feel many emotions and inspired a certain thing here.</p><p>On that note, while most of this fic is fairly lighthearted and celebratory, fair warning that there are a few heavy paragraphs early on about trying to deal with grief. CW also for a very brief vague food crime mention towards the end of the fic. <s>I'm really capturing the duality of the MTs here I think</s></p><p>Also, I still have a lot of feelings about Season 5, and they somehow leaked into this fic. I apologize in advance.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Even after an entire season in the Core, it feels undeniably strange to be spending election day out in The Pillars, surrounded by the other Mechanics. Over the years, Dot had become accustomed to standing in the dampness of Gleek Arena, staring anxiously up at the screens as the results came in, shifting their weight from foot to foot and letting the familiar squishing sensation reassure them that yes, somehow, they're still there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, they're not there anymore. And pretty soon, they probably won't be here, either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They've tried to make peace with it. The Core has been good to them. Their next team will probably be good to them, too. And who knows, maybe they'll even get to stay here another season.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Staying is what they’d choose, if they couldn't go home. It's been -- well, they can't exactly say it's been a </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>year here, not after all that's happened to the Core. This was a rough first season back for the Mechanics, full of incineration and feedback, and none of them were really prepared for it -- though, how can you ever prepare for something like that, even if you've already spent seasons dealing with it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not having known Hands and Ruffian very well, Dot felt more out of place than ever when they died, dealing with the loss of yet more teammates rather than two close friends. It wasn't the same, and they felt it wasn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough</span>
  </em>
  <span>; they hadn’t been a Mech very long, didn't have all this shared history, didn't have countless years of memories to look back on bittersweetly, didn't know how to be sad in the right way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so they tried to make up for it. They helped out wherever they could, took charge of the practices when nobody else was up for running them, offered assistance with the other Mechs’ projects, sat and listened to anyone who needed to talk to a teammate who wouldn't also break down during a conversation about Hands or Ruffian.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Dot breaks in their own way, sometimes, when no one else is looking. Shoves everything even further to the back of their mind and throws pitches over and over and over until they almost forget they can't feel things the way they're supposed to. Until they almost forget they're supposed to be feeling anything but the one-two-three. Until they almost forget the sight of them all going up in flames, Ruffian and Hands and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Workman</span>
  </em>
  <span> and --</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some things are impossible to forget. Some things shouldn't be forgotten, anyway. They remember this, eventually, put the ball away and leave the field and find someone to talk to. Try to remember how to grieve. Try to feel what they’re supposed to.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hasn't all been bad. There have been so many moments both on and off the field that they’ll remember forever, keep close to their heart and hope they'll never have to look back on with sadness. There's been enough of that. More importantly, there's been smiles and laughter, wins and losses that have left them all cheering, stumbles and mistakes and triumphs as they learn to build things like the other Mechs do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Above all, it's been a season with a team they care about, and they weren't expecting that. It'll hurt more when they have to leave, but they don't regret any of it. And maybe they'll be lucky enough to stay, even for just a while longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Maybe, maybe, they'll be even luckier. Maybe they’ll get to go home. But they don't dare even hope of that. They just stand there, and watch, and wait, Will after Will passing by, trying to prepare for the one that will knock their feet out from under them yet again.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's been a bittersweet election already. The Fridays have just sent Lizzy to the shadows, which is... not too surprising, but it still hurts to know that their former teammate has faded into the background and they didn't really get to say goodbye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that it has to be goodbye, though, not forever. The Mechs know this, they've had shadow swaps before, she's not </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone</span>
  </em>
  <span>, just harder to reach. She’ll have good company there, too. Though she’s in Hawai’i, the Core’s Shadows will still find her, help her adjust. Morse will, too; Dot’s been telling him all about her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Talkers are next, and Dot looks up anxiously. It's hard not to imagine them all there in Halifax, gathered around, knowing any one of them could be yanked away at any moment. CV will be streaming and speculating about the results, York will be watching the screens closely for any mention of Nagomi and gripping the Vibe Check tight in case he's called away, Ziwa will be trying hard to keep everyone’s spirits up... Workman will be there too, staying close to Beasley, who’ll be enjoying himself immensely, unaware of how much could go wrong. He’d never understand why everyone suddenly disappeared if he were to be traded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They're all just hoping everything will work out okay. Are they also hoping that, somehow, Dot will come back, or are they too busy hoping for other things? Dot knows the plan wasn't to try and get them back, not this time, and they understand. Some things are more important right now, and they hope those plans do work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And -- yes, there it is, Foreshadow, Mooney being swapped out for Shirai. Her leaving is bittersweet; she was one of the few remaining Talkers who had been part of the team when Dot joined (Dot definitely does not stop to think about how after Greer and Eugenia, they would have been with the Talkers the next longest, now, were they still there), but it felt sadly necessary. Mooney had been neglecting her pitching, unable to care about the splort, unable to care about anything but getting her wife back. This, at least, gives her a better opportunity to do that. Dot can only hope that she finds what she’s looking for, or at least eventually finds some peace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shirai seems promising, and Dot knows she's been looking forward to properly joining the team. Maybe they can take the time to work with her a bit before the season starts -- but, of course, that's not their responsibility anymore, they’re a Mech now, and soon enough they’ll probably be something else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They keep their eyes on the screen, hoping it'll tell them that Bright Zimmerman is gone, the one thing the Talkers could all agree on wanting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(“He can't be that bad, right?” Dot had said to Workman over the phone not long after Bright had arrived. “He must just be having some trouble settling in. We both know how that feels.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He keeps pretending to throw the ball for Beasley but then hides it behind his back and doesn't actually throw it,” Workman responded, glowering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...You're right. He needs to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And he doesn’t even wear </span>
  <em>
    <span>shoes</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” they continued. “I can’t get him back by stealing them!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have full confidence in your ability to steal more than just shoes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> been complaining that his hats keep turning up in the Belligerent Phlegm Receptacle. Says it’s “disgusting”. I just told him that things have a tendency to disappear and eventually turn up somewhere else in the arena. Which is true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It certainly is.”)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The screen doesn't say that Bright Zimmerman is gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The screen says “The Moist Talkers voted to target PolkaDot Patterson for the plunder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dot blinks at it, expecting it to make more sense upon second glance, convinced it must be wrong, even as they feel that familiar tug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s you!” Gia exclaims. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You get to go home,” Mindy says, maybe a little enviously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Home?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don't forget about us!” Bees buzzes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I... of course not. I could never,” they say, bewildered, amazed. Is this real? “You've all done so much for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a pleasure to have you,” Lady says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come back Down anytime,” Adelaide adds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-of course.” They're fading, now, away from the Core, and back to... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you! For everything!” they call out before it's too late, and then all their waving teammates -- former teammates? -- disappear as they stumble forwards and land with an achingly familiar splash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Shirai?” they hear, and then, almost at the same time, “oh my god” and “Plunder?” and “Dot?” and excited barking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I --” is all they manage before Beasley knocks them off their already-unsteady feet, and then they're lying on the wet field being licked by a very excited dog and the air is damp and full of the unmistakable scent of salt, and they couldn't possibly be any further from the Core. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Home? Is it really possible?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good boy,” they manage. Beasley steps back a little, tail still wagging. Dot looks up and sees the team there, York and Ziwa and Eugenia and Jenkins and Lachlan and, oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone,</span>
  </em>
  <span> except for -- no, Mooney’s there too, they realize, a faint outline on the edge of the group, she’s stuck around a while longer, at least -- they're all here, and Dot probably looks ridiculous lying on the ground like this, but all the same they just let the welcomes wash over them for a moment, close their eyes, open them again and see that the familiarly foggy Halifax sky is still there, soak it all in before they even try to get up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Workman's there, grinning, ready to help them back up again. “Need a hand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already have more than enough of those,” Dot says, and laughs as they reach out and take Workman’s anyway, stand up and look at their teammates, -- their teammates! -- because is this really happening?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you see Shirai?” Ziwa asks once the welcoming dies down a bit, concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dot shakes their head. “No. That's -- that's not how it works. Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She'll be okay,” Eugenia reassures them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will she? Dot knows all too well that the effects of two blessings at once can be a heavy burden to bear. But though the gods have taken her, they haven’t changed her, at least, not yet. Maybe she’ll be okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Core will take good care of her,” Dot finally says. “Like they did of me. It will be very different from what she was expecting, but she will learn to fit in, I hope.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like you did?” York asks. “You.. wouldn’t rather still be there, would you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will miss it,” they admit. More than they had thought possible. “But this is my home. There's nowhere I'd rather be.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Told you we could get you back,” Workman says, still grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We all know this had nothing to do with the plan,” Dot says, and they're smiling, too, because how could they not be, they’re here, they’re back, they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Don't pretend you're not surprised.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's a good surprise for once, though, don't you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don't even need to answer that, which is good, because they don't get the chance to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, you just couldn't handle me being the new star pitcher?” Greer’s the last to greet them. “Had to come back and try and show me up? You're no match for me now, Patterson, so don't go getting any ideas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to see you again too, Greer. I'm pleased you have improved and are becoming more dedicated to the splort every day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh. You’re no fun.” Is that the hint of a genuine smile behind those sharp teeth?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bright says something about them all wasting their time on someone who won't be around very long, and who isn't even as good of a pitcher as everyone says, and who -- well, at that point they're all fully ignoring him, so no one actually knows what he's going on about. He eventually slinks off, mumbling to himself, the only person who cares what he has to say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Dot says, reality finally crashing back in. “I -- wait. I might not be able to stay. Another team could easily steal me before the election is over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, the election!” CV shouts, running back over towards the board, still filming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was anyone paying attention to the results since Dot got here?” Ziwa asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What follows is a chorus of “nope”, “no”, “oops”, “I thought you were”, and so on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure if anything big happened, we’ll hear about it eventually!” Eugenia points out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you’re still here, so that’s something,” York says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes. They’re still here. For now. Now’s not enough, but maybe it will have to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, York! Nagomi’s out of the Shadows!” CV calls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>York dashes over there. “Really?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you catch what happened right before that?” Jesús asks as everyone else gathers around again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, just missed the Flowers’ first Will. I’m sure it wasn’t anything too important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, she's pitching!” York bounces excitedly. “She's even better at that than hitting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch out, Dot, you’ve got some more competition,” Jenkins says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, though I doubt we will be playing the Flowers,” they respond. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Please, let it stay that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Competition is good, though they'll miss seeing Nagomi at the plate. Always a worthy opponent to pitch to -- well, less an opponent, now, and more a friend, thanks to York.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Wills continue stubbornly onward, bringing changes expected and surprising, pleasant and bittersweet. Jaylen retreats to the Shadows, a difficult decision, but one Dot hopes she can find peace with. August Sky returns to the Jazz Hands as a pitcher, prompting further declarations of competition for Dot, and much reminiscing about that semifinals series many seasons ago from those who were a part of it. (which, Dot realizes with a pang, is only half the team). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So much reminiscing, in fact, that they all get more than a little caught up in it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember when Bates hit that homer to shame the Crabs and bring us to the semifinals for the first time?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He really could bat…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember how no one else believed that Morse could win the first game except for us, and then he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it wasn’t even close!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wasn’t that the game where Richmond stole home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought it was Elijah who stole home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was a few games later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, you guys really were good back then, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember Dot and August pitching </span>
  <em>
    <span>23 innings</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greer yawns. “Nah, I slept through that one.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she really had been watching, Dot knows. They all had. Dot will never forget that day, that moment of true competition, the joy of pitching a long safe game, the innings ticking onwards, their teammates always there to back them up. And of course, they couldn't have won that game without…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it was Richmond who batted Hobbs home to score the winning run,” they say, unable to forget the way Richmond lifted Hobbs up onto his shoulders afterwards, and Dot watched them all celebrate a game well-played, and smiled, and it had felt like an ultimate victory even though it was only partway through the semifinals. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And in that moment so long ago, for the first time, Dot had almost dared to feel they could truly be part of the team, instead of someone who was just passing through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could have won it all that year,” Ziwa says, maybe a little bitterly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it hurts a little that they didn't, Dot knows. Not at the time, but now that Elijah and Hobbs and Workman will never have that championship that was almost in their grasp, now that the roster has changed so much... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were so close to making the finals,” Ziwa continues. “Took the Jazz Hands all the way to five games and only lost in the 11th inning to a shame.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you just had to bring up the shame, huh?” Jenkins says, but even they’re smiling at the memory. The Talkers have never made it any further in the playoffs, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And they're still the Talkers. Teammates come and go, never forgotten, and the world changes around them all, makes them change, too, but they're still the Talkers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that they have it back, Dot is struck again by just how much they’d missed this, missed being not just a part of the Talkers’ history, but the present as well, and, hopefully, the future. They’re a part of the Core’s history now, too, even if it's just a small part. And that’s good, but it’s even better to be back. Back here under the open skies, wrapped in the sea breeze, surrounded by the people they care most about in the world, caught up in memories of something none of them will ever quite have again, not in the same way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So caught up, in fact, that Dot almost forgets to worry that this could still be taken from them, and they all forget to pay attention to the Wills again -- and then they look up and see that the Wills are over, and Dot is safe. They're still here. Home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got High Pressure!” someone shouts, and then they're all cheering. It's just a Blessing, but, oh, they've all made it through, they're all okay, for now, and how can they not celebrate? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's been a lot to take in, though, and Dot is glad when the screens go dark and things quiet down a bit, everyone getting ready to leave -- and none of them are going far, and Dot can see them all again tomorrow, if they want, and, oh, they’re back, and they can </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay</span>
  </em>
  <span>, even for just a little while longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should have a party. Something to celebrate you coming back,” Ziwa says. “I mean, if you want, of course.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That… that would be great. Thank you,” Dot says. “Maybe not today, though? It's been…” They're not really sure if there are words for how it’s been, actually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ziwa nods. “Yeah. Sure has. How about tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds good.” Sounds wonderful, amazing, unbelievable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My place?” Lachlan suggests. He just seems relieved they have anything to celebrate at all. “I can start preparing some stuff tonight. Let me know what you’d like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could all bring something!” CV chimes in. “I’ll make --”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don't finish that sentence,” Lachlan shudders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dot leaves them to debate whether or not Dloritos are an acceptable ingredient, knowing there will be plenty more of that tomorrow -- tomorrow! -- and joins Workman and Beasley.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You going to be ready for all that chaos tomorrow?” Workman asks, looking back at the group on the field.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I've missed the chaos, in a way,” Dot admits. “I mean, we had plenty of it in the Core, but it's never the same. Though I’ll miss that, too, but I can visit. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> visit. I don't have to visit here anymore, not for a while, at least. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>here.” It still feels impossible, but it's true. They take a deep breath, let the sea air surround them. “And… I feel like I could be ready for anything, now that I'm back. This is our season.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Workman laughs. “You all say that every season.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has to be true sooner or later. We’re going to do it. Make it safely to the playoffs. Win it all.” Oh, it's not about the winning, of course it's not, but they're back, they're here, the team is stronger than it's ever been and they're all together and if they can just stay that way --</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One step at a time,” Workman says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” The future is still waiting, and it may be as good to them as this day has been, and it may hold nothing good at all, but no matter what, they have this moment, and they never even thought they'd have that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Home?” Workman suggests, holding out their hand again. Beasley has already started out in the direction of the apartment, tail wagging, glancing back as if to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>what are you waiting for</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Home,” Dot agrees, and lets their fingers twine together, and takes another step towards the future. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A few quick thoughts!</p><p>- I decided not to incorporate the necromancy scare, considering how much necromancy-related trauma this team has. It would have made this fic a whole lot longer and more depressing! So I went out of my way to skip over it instead.</p><p>- Yes, you read that correctly! Of all our players still on the roster, Dot joined the Talkers the longest time ago, and is the only other current player besides our two remaining non-alternate originals (Eugenia and Greer) to have been on the team at the start of Season 3. (though their time in the Core means they haven't spent quiiiiiite as much time on the team as Ziwa, plus they were shelled for two seasons, but at least they were still <i>there</i>.) So, yeah, we're pretty attached to them.</p><p>- One day I will write Dot-Nagomi interactions. I think they'd get along well. </p><p>- Season 5 was the last good happy time we had before everything absolutely went to hell and I still think about this a lot</p><p>- have I mentioned I am really really really happy to have Dot back? I love them very much, which you may have noticed.</p><p>- Thanks for reading &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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